Miscellaneous Drabbles
by sodalite
Summary: A selection of 100 word drabbles.
1. Eating Death

Eating Death.

Drabbles concerning Lord Voldemort, his followers and Salazar Slytherin.

***

TITLE Beneath the lake  
SUMMARY Ambition, idly vain. Salazar makes plans.

In the dusky grounds outside there is a swirling of silver, twisting and winding, cutting down imaginary warriors.

In the Library pages turn, books are opened and shut again, and a quill drifts lightly over parchment.

In the gardens a lone figure is walking between trees.

None of us are together anymore, the divisions between us now too great to heal. Here beneath the lake, where I belong, I set a path to the future. Here I speak with the greatest of they I consider my kin. The greatest of the four, I will defeat them.

Hogwarts will be pure.

***

TITLE The Heir  
SUMMARY A fine line between genius and insanity. Tom Riddle

He planned it down to the last moment. A split second either way, and all would be worthless.  
He trusted his instincts, trusted that all his careful preparation would pay off.

He had refused the help of his friends – his minions, really. He didn't need them, didn't trust that they wouldn't fail him.

He wouldn't fail. He was the greatest wizard of all time.

The door in front of him opened, and he spoke. A chilling voice not quite his own echoed in the long forgotten chamber.

_Come._

The beauty of the greatest of serpents almost took his breath away.

***

TITLE Seventh Ink  
SUMMARY One seventh of a man's soul is a mere ink construct.

One seventh of a man's soul is a mere ink construct in the pages of a notebook.

I am only part man, not worthy to be considered whole.

It hurt when he sent me away; I miss the rest of me.

I know; just out of mind there are memories of my own, which I am not privy to. There are thoughts and dreams that I had and have no longer, beyond the reach of my inky fingertips.

I can write, constantly in this diary I write those dreams and memories that I cannot recall.

And yet I cannot read.

***

TITLE The Madness of Lord Voldemort  
SUMMARY To be mad is idyllic

Deserters are punished.

The fear of such punishment keeps most but the very foolish in absolute servitude.

Deserters are murdered.

They spend their last living hours transforming the air with the epic soundtrack of their screams and pleas.

The ground is painted with rainbow coloured beauty, of their own blood and vomit.

Beauty is like increasing passion.

To be mad, as he has become, is a wonderful thing, for there is beauty in the horrific. He sees the beauty no one else can imagine.

To be mad is to see the good side of everything. To be mad, is idyllic.

***

TITLE The Fallen  
PROMPT 24 hours left to live (not about Snape or Draco or James/Lily).

The flickering fades slowly. Light to dark in a few, fragmented hours.

Life flickers, he thinks. Across the universe all existence emits screams he wishes would cease.

"Tom!" He sees her running towards him; arms open.

She always caught him. Now she stops, his dream, dispersing into the air.

Absence of light fades into day. Almost, he is gone now.

Far away, there is a celebration.

Sight clouded, he looks down. A tabby cat watches from beneath the corpse of a willow.

"Fuck. Min!" Did she hear him? "I don't want to die! Minerva!"

The cat slinks away.

_Order Victorious!_

***

TITLE The Games of Children  
SUMMARY The persuasive language of a tear. Children are often the cruelest.

Narcissa, Bellatrix noticed, always giggled. Andromeda was silent; she never seemed to approve of their games.

Bella twirled a finger idly through her hair, watching him darkly. He struggled fiercely against the bonds that held him, but remained silent. He learned fast for one so young though he was still too wayward, too different to ever be one of them.

Bella smirked and Narcissa giggled.

He wept, silently.

They would find the children like this, in a few hours. He would cry to them, and Bella would be punished. Locked away, she would plan her revenge for his childish crying.

***

TITLE Take my dreams beyond the veil  
SUMMARY These children no longer children. Sequel to 'The Games of Children' Bellatrix Remembers.

Bellatrix barely remembers his face. Such time in Azkaban has torn her memory asunder. She remembers him though, can recall with such clarity the emotions forced on her.

She remembers holding him prisoner, tying him down, and making him weep. There was a time when her beautiful sister merely giggled with lighthearted amusement. And the wayward one said nothing.

Now, in the midst of battle she cannot allow herself the time to recollect the past.

She is fighting an enemy whom she has never met, that is all.

She raises the wand and he falls. Her childhood falls with him.


	2. Misadventures

Misadventures.

Concerning the Marauders, Harry, Nargles and Hermione.

***

TITLE The Dog Star  
SUMMARY To shine, to dazzle or betray. Sirius remembers.

The dark, cold of Azkaban permeates every fragment of body and mind. In the dark four paws pace incessantly up and down, alone in the black of night. Above the screams of terror and insanity, is a whispered conversation, recalled with such sudden clarity it might have been blown back suddenly on the wind.

"Look, Remus, the dog star."

"Your star," a hand, entwined in his own, "How bright it shines."

"Well suited then," a kiss, now only the barest touch of air.

In the sky Sirius shines brightly, as is its destiny to.

He thinks of Prongs.

Or betray.

***

TITLE Kisses that Once Were  
SUMMARY Thou are not what thou wast before / what reason I should be the same? Remus reflects upon the changes in his relationship with Sirius.

It was only a single, snatched moment before he fled. A kiss embroiled in passion and discovery, as we found each other after so long.

Yet it was not a kiss like those we shared before. It seemed I did not yet know who I was kissing, only who he had once been.

"Oh Sirius, where did you go?" I have grown to hate the sound of my own voice.

"Azkaban," comes the answer. One word, one place, and the man I once knew has fled.

I share now my kisses and love with a man I do not know.

***

TITLE Secret Rat  
SUMMARY As clouds that veil the midnight moon. The fourth marauder thinks a little.

He runs with the others, under the sky. It is night. Here, where he runs, it is always night and the moon is always full.

He holds secrets. He knows he does.

Ahead the wolf stops and howls. The rat cannot help but feel this defies the natural order of things. A wolf ought to eat a rat, and yet this wolf does not.

He is the odd one out.

He wishes that the moon would vanish, that he could be ensconced in darkness in which to hide from life. Hide from this paranoid realm where he is so uncertain.

***

TITLE The sinister hours of darkness  
SUMMARY If she dies, I shall die, too. Halloween 1981; Harry watches.

Through the window a flash of green momentarily illuminates the night.

The little boy watches as she stands with her back to him, crying and pleading.

He knows this man is evil, knows his father is dead, though he does not fully understand what it means to die.

He is frightened, because his mother does not cry. She comforts when others are afraid or weeping.

He knows his mother is all that stands between him and death.

He does not want her to fall, because he will fall too.

And even as the thought crosses his mind, he is alone.

***

TITLE A Nargle Misadventure  
SUMMARY A Drabble. Written around Christmastime.

The waiting was the worst.

They had no concept of time, and yet even they seemed to suffer great impatience.

They had neglected to remove the charms that bound the humans to themselves. If they were discovered they would surely be placed in quarantine, for this was a direct breach of order 794.

It was, however, too great an opportunity to ignore.

The moment the humans approached the innocent green plant they prepared to pounce.

As the human's lips drew closer together, the Nargles fell, one by one into their unsuspecting hair.

The squeals of horror made the waiting worthwhile.

***

TITLE On Femininity  
SUMMARY Hermione ponders womanhood and time.

As a child she had often fled indoors to her mother, nursing a terrible wound from which she was sure to die.

In the following minutes her mother would clean her up and send her out to play with a plaster and kiss to the wound. Never once did her mother question her belief that it was the magical touch of maternal love that stemmed the flow of escaping life.

Watching the moonlight play on the red velvet drapes, Hermione wished her mother could drink away this blood and halt marauding Time forever.

Over time she was bleeding to death.


End file.
